don't let them win
by 123fourtris123
Summary: What if each faction has to submit three people to battle it out in the arena... Could a Divergent survive The Hunger Games? Will a certain someone make winning the games a whole lot harder? (This is a crossover)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Because there are ony five factions opposed to 12 districts, a boy and a girl will be chosen as tributes as well as a boy or a girl. Tris doesn't know how to hunt. I DO NOT OWN DIVERGENT OR THE HUNGER GAMES! I have altered some aspects of the reaping ceremony. Also excuse any spelling or grammatical errors as my spell check isn't working. Enjoy!** **J**

I flinched slightly as the tracker needle pierced my skin. The woman from the Capitol, who was administering the trackers, rolled her eyes at me and called for her next victim. I knew she was from the Capitol due to her teetering, elaborately styled, candyfloss pink hair- I had never seen candyfloss in real life, but I had seen it in pictures of the Capitol often enough. Her skin was bleached snowy white leaving it with a distinctly artificial look to it. Her make- up was slapped on an inch thick and she wore the strangest outfit I'd ever seen.

I scowled to myself at the woman's lack of compassion. She was from the Capitol and therefore didn't have to contemplate what would happen if she was chosen. Chosen to fight to the death. Chosen to kill for survival. Chosen to represent Abnegation in the Hunger Games.

Abnegation. That was my faction. The factions were supposed to to unite society; each faction represented a persons personality. There was Erudite who believed in logic and intelligence. Amity, they thought that pacifism, peace and happiness should be valued. Candor, they believed in the truth. There was also Dauntless, to be Dauntless you must be brave. Sometimes I wonder if there is a difference between Dauntless and Candor; to tell the truth, you must have an awful lot of courage. And then there is Abnegation. They believe that you must always be selfless and to not induldge yourself in the un-necessary luxuries of life. It is said that Abnegation and Amity are always the worst at the Hunger Games due to the fact they they're both strongly opposed to violence. However, the most basic human instict is to survive and we are but humans and are not immune to what our instincts tell us. It is usually Dauntless or Erudite that win and Candor stand a decent chance, but I can't remember the last Abnegation or Amity victor.

I smoothed out the creases in my dress and tried to regain some composure. It was the most stunning dress I'd ever seen. Simple as most Abnegation dresses were, but breath taking nonetheless. It was dove grey and came just below my knees as Abnegation thought it unacceptable to flaunt too much. Unlike most Abnegation outfits, the dress was made from a smooth, silky material I didn't know the name of. It was solid yet liquid, fluid was the best word to describe how it looked and indeed felt. It would've made any girl look radiant. Anyone but me that is. I was small and in almost every way, completely unextrordinary. The only feature that I even remotely liked was my hair; it tumbled past my shoulders in thick, shiny waves. It was a mixture of chestnut brown and honey blond. When I was younger, and my hair was much shorter, I would often have tantrums. I shouted at the top of my lungs that I wanted long and pretty hair just like the leader of Amity, Johanna. She had thick, dark, wavy hair which fell gently over one side of her face. My mother would laugh a little but then would tell me that I should not be vain and I should accept my hair as it is. That's what she said, but that didn't stop her from letting me grow it. She brushed it and wound it into a modest swirl at the base of my neck for the reaping ceremony.

Suddenly, from nowhere, I was hit by a solid and courage- shattering wall of fear. What if I would I was chosen and my mom would never again gently pull a brush through the tangles in my hair? What if she would never wound my hair into that swirl at the base of my neck again? What if I never saw her, dad or Caleb again? I pushed that dire thought to the back of my mind and tried to ignore the tight ache in my throat.

I turned around to see if I could see Caleb in the swarm of eleven to eighteen year olds who would later be waiting with baited breath as the Capitol representative pulled out the names of the doomed tributes. But at that precise moment, a peace keeper grabbed me by the upper arm and growled roughly, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," I replied coldly. The peace keeper dragged me over to the roped in area marked for the sixteen year olds.

"Stay there," he said, shoving me into the section as if I was an animal. Peace keeper. How ironic. In the next 20 minutes, the rest of the sixteen year olds from Abnegation filtered in beside and around me. They looked just as scared as I felt. The larger of the boys tried to look unfased and calm, but it was the little things that clearly stated that their courage had somewhat diminished since entering the segment for the sixteen year olds.

I recognised most of the people there: from school and for those who chose to be home schooled, my parents as they were leaders of Abnegation.

All to soon, the woman from the Capitol- Effie Trinket- took to the stage. Like all the other people from th Capitol, Effie was dressed in one of the most eccentric outfits I'd seen. Similar to the woman who injected the tracker, Effie's hair was an alarming shade of pink, exactly the same as her dress. Her lips were painted magenta. Her skin was powdery white and her smile looked as if it had been carved into her face by a knife, it was too bright, too artificial, too big for the reaping.

"Welcome, welcome!" she said, loudly, speaking into the microphone. "To the 74th annual Hunger Games!" Her enthusiastic if yet slightly fake sounding introduction was not met by a cheer or even a solitary clap, it was the reeping after all. Effie then began a mind- numbingly dull speech about the importance of having two girls, two boys and one of either, from each faction fight until only one is left standing. I still fail to understand why we should have that as a constant reminder of our mistakes in the past. Surely we should put all of our failiures behind us and try to move on?

My feet were beginning to ache and inside my head, I was screaming at Effie to get the speech over with. After what felt like an age, the large town square was quiet. "Let us select the tributes of Abnegation!" Wobbling slightly in her sky scraper high heels, Effie Trinket walked over to the three large glass bowls containing slips of paper, five of which had my name written on. "As always, ladies first!" I waited, my heart pounding, for Effie to pull the name out. For several seconds Effie's hand danced about in the bowl, deliberating which slip to choose. Finally, her perfect fingers closed around a slip. A slip that will condemn someone to almost certain death.


	2. Chapter 2

"And the female tribute for Abnegation is…" Effie paused for dramatic effect. "Lucy Greenwich!" It all happened so fast. There was a scream of pain from the crowd of on lookers and Mary Greenwich (a friend of my mothers) was being restrained by two peace keepers as her daughter Lucy began to move towards the stage. She was three people away from me. As she passed me I caught sight of her face. Her grey eyes were brimming with tears and they registered pure terror. She looked like a small child once more. I knew her from school: she was quiet and placid, there was no way she would be able to survive long in the arena. I gave her fingers a quick squeeze before allowing her to pass. With shaking legs, Lucy walked up onto the stage beside Effie. "Lovely, lovely!" Effie said. The shrieks of Lucy's mother said otherwise. I felt too bad for Lucy to feel relieved that I had not been chosen. Anyway, there was still the mixed gender bowl…

"And now for our male tribute!" This time Effie tok even longer to select the male tribute, almost as if she didn't want to choose someone. Almost as if she cared… In her crisp high voice, Effie said, "Nicholas Hooper." This time I had no knowledge of the tribute. He was tall and thin, he obviously had never been fed a decent meal. I never had much to eat either, even if my parents were faction leaders. His eyes were darker than Lucy's but still grey. He didn't look anywhere near as fased as Lucy. Calmly, he walked up on stage to join her and Effie. I did feel bad for him: no one, not even his mother, called for him. Though I may've felt bad for him, I certainly did not like the look of him. A scowl clouded his features and he shoved his way through the crowd.

"And finally, citizens of Abnegation, let us choose the unknown tribute!" she said it as if it were a treat. Unfolding the little piece of paper, she read all too clearly, "Beatrice Prior." Nothing. Zero. Blank. White. I could not feel anything. A high pitched ringing sound filled my ears and I closed my eyes, hoping I would wake up from this nightmare. It's just a mistake! It has to be a mistake! Please God let it be an error! Yes. Effie Trinket would look at the paper and realise what'd happened… But she never did. I felt all the eyes in the vacinaty turn on me. "Come now, Beatrice! Up you come to the stage, Miss Prior." The hands of the peace keepers were at my back, guiding me to the stage. My legs felt heavy, lead like. Every movement was an extreme movement to execute. All too soon I was on the stage with Effie, Lucy and Nicholas. I saw my mother. She looked pale and she was mouthing words but no sound came out. Her hand was raised in front of her and silent tears slipped down her face. Caleb and my father just stood there, mouths hanging open, both shaking with the shock.

"Well!" Effie cried, some of her old swagger returned, "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!" It was silent. You could hear a pin drop. Then, to my utmost surprise, mom pressed her three middle fingers on her left hand to her lips and then raised it into the air. Everyone else made the same gesture. I let out a sound between a sob and a strangled yell for her warm, comforting arms to wrap around me, stroke my hair and whisper consolence about the Games.

"I think it's about time we left." Effie said, looking slightly flustered. When I did not move, Effie siezed my upper arm and pulled me away into the Justice building. Lucy was crying quietly in the corner of the dark room, Nicholas was sitting on a plain Abnegation grey couch, glowering at the floor. I paced up and down the deep grey room, trying to take in the afternoons events. Suddenly a small crowd of people rushed through the double doors, making me jump. Lucy's parents and her older sister, maud; my mom, dad and Caleb; a woman with long dark braided hair and the same dark grey eyes as Nicholas. Before I could say anything my family was pulling me into a warm embrace.

It was funny; I had been yearning for my family ever since Effie called my name, but I found myself pulling away. "I.. can't!" I said, choking on the words. I meant it. I could not cry. Not here. Not now. I couldn't bring myself to look at them.

"Beatrice," my mother said softly, "You cold win!"

"You're intelligent," Caleb added.

"You could out-smart them!" chipped in dad.

I could not bear it. They all had such faith in me. The daughter that would never return them. "How do you do it?" I burst out. "How can you say that I might win?"

My mother smiled slightly. "That's easy!"

"It's because we believe it." My father finished. "We're not about to give up on you." I opened my mouth to speak but then the peace keepers returned dragging what little family the tributes had away. Nicholas' mother left quietly, blowing her son a kiss. My parents and Lucy's mother shouted for me and Lucy, respectively.

The last thing I heard was my mother shout desperately, "Don't let them win!"

Now she is gone, and I am here, being bundled into a horse drawn carrige by the peace keepers and Effie, Nicholas and Lucy beside me. I ache to be at home right now, watching Caleb do his homework; my mother knitting and my father reading. Effie babbles on about how lovely the Capitol is. "You shall be experiencing Capitol life at it's very finest for a whole week!" Effie burbles.

"Yeah… And then we'll be sent to our death! What fun!" Nicholas says sarcastically, glowering at Effie. She ignores the comment and starts chatting away happily to Lucy.

Who are our mentors?" Lucy says, disrupting Effie's dull chatter.

Frowning slightly, Effie says, "Haymitch Abernathy and Victoria Wu," She then turns to me, "You've been awfully quiet, Beatrice. Do you have any questions?" I have been paying little or no attention to what they have been discussing.

"How exactly are we prepared for the Games?" I say with genuine curiosity. The question just comes to me. For the first time, I realise I am clueless as to how tributes are prepared for the arena. Every year I watch when tributes receive their respective training scores, but I am clueless on how they are trained to try to earn the highest score.

"You sound Erudite." Effie laughs, "You have five days of group training where you can go to different stations and develop new skills. There is eveything ranging from an edible plant to a camoflauge station."

"What about the other two days of the week's training?" asks Nicholas. Clearly he will be an Erudite transfer… he would have been Erudite. His chance of survival does not seem good as to win the Gmes, you must have good sponsors. To get sponsors, people must like you and sullen, sulky Nicholas is anything but likeable.

"On the first day, you will have your individual interviews with Caeser Flickerman and on the last day you will have the chance to show your skills to the Gamemkers and sponsors, via a simulation, where you will then receive your training score. Listen to your mentors about when to show your skills." Effie finishes.

My mind is now on Lucy. She is a placid, docile creature who was fairly smart (though not Erudite smart) and quite pretty. Her mother is the local healer so she knows how to take care of herself and is aquainted with herbs and medicinal plants. However, I could whittle her down to the deepest part of her heart and she would be Abnegation through and through. Her only let down.

What about me? I score high at school, I know basic survival skills and I know how people (particularly the careers/ Dauntless and Erudite) think. That will be my ultimate defence against the clutches of Death. A lot of the Tributes end up dying from dehydration, lack of food or just general exposure. This is where the non- career tributes have the advantage; we know how to be hungry. We know how to be cold. We know how to have our bodies pushed to their physical and mental breaking point.

Nicholas is certainly not likeable, but there is a kind of quiet strength about him which I find myself in awe of and yet slightly scared of. He is dangerously smart and even if he will not have sponsors, he is still someone to beat… and he certainly will not go down without a fight.

Effie frowns at our outfits. "You Abnegation people only wear grey? How dull!" she says, eyeing Nicholas and Lucy's outfits with an expression of utmost disgust on her face. When she sees mine, Effie smiles, a false Capitol smile but a smile nonetheless. "This is more like it! Lovely, plain, simple and grey but quite beautiful all the same. Where did you get it from? I must congratulate the stylist on their skill!"

I force back the roll of my eyes; how could Effie know so little about Abnegation? Of course she didn't know that we don't have personal stylists, why would she know that we stitch every seam on our clothes by hand? Effie does not exactly do her research. "My mother made it for me. She makes clothes for the factionless!" for a second, Effie's face is blank. She mouths the word factionless as if she had never heard of it before.


End file.
